How Immersive Summer Experiences Build Better College Applicants

Every summer tells a story, but some rewrite your entire "why". In this reflection titled "The Summer That Changed My Why," high school student Brayden shares how the mix of clinical shadowing, mental health advocacy, and biomedical research challenged him to lead with vulnerability, serve with intention, and grow beyond the classroom. His journey is proof that you do not need to wait until college to make an impact.

A Season of Immersion

Most summers used to blur together—test‑prep, a part‑time job, maybe a family trip. This year I wanted something different: immersion. I split my time among four very different arenas—public‑health advocacy, pediatric physical therapy, biomedical research, and community education. Each setting pushed me to serve, to question, and to grow in ways AP classes or college courses never could.

Turning Vulnerability Into Leadership

The first stop was Connected to Lead, a teen mental‑health summit I co‑organized after reflecting on my own struggles with bottling up “unacceptable” emotions. Inside Out 2 became the perfect ice‑breaker: Joy, Sadness, and Anxiety opened a door for teens to talk about feelings we usually leave locked away. By sharing the meltdown that finally convinced me it’s “okay not to be okay,” I watched three roomful of strangers turn into allies. Over 75 percent of participants later wrote that the summit taught them never to suppress emotions.

For me, the takeaway was even bigger: authentic leadership is rooted in vulnerability. That insight now shapes how I write personal statements and how I show up in extracurriculars—no more polished façade, just the real story and the lessons it carries.

Healing Through Play at Stepping Stones

From emotional wellness I pivoted to Stepping Stones Pediatric PT, shadowing a therapist who treats children ages 3‑8. The clinic felt like a hybrid of gym, playground, and improv stage. One seven‑year‑old with ARID1B syndrome refused to do a therapy cape for button‑practice, spiraling into cries and flying water bottles. I remembered the summit: meet emotion first, task second. I asked if I could wear the cape; he giggled, looped it around my neck (accidentally choking me a little), then beamed when he finally tried it on himself.

Those moments taught me that medicine—especially pediatrics—starts with trust, creativity, and patience, not protocols. I also picked up concrete skills: designing adaptive bike pedals from cardboard, cueing core muscles with child‑friendly metaphors, and documenting progress notes that actually speak to both parents and insurers.

Research That Amplifies Unheard Voices

Inside hospital walls, disparities persist long after discharge. At the UCI Health, I joined a team dissecting racial gaps in postpartum pain management. Reading hundreds of charts and meta‑analyses, we traced the domino effect of insurance coverage, clinician bias, and pharmacy deserts. Presenting our findings and earning a spot at the 2025 Western Medical Research Conference showed me how storytelling and statistics together can shift clinical practice.

Meanwhile, the Think Neuro internship let me act on those insights. We scripted and recorded Spanish‑language explainer videos sent to 500 + limited‑English‑proficient patients in the Bay Area because data without dissemination still leaves people behind. Next semester we’ll measure viewership and health‑literacy gains for a publishable paper.

Why These Experiences Matter (and not just to me)

On paper, the summer checks every college‑application box: leadership, service, clinical exposure, original research. But the real growth is subtler. I now default to asking why before what, to listening before prescribing fixes, and to seeing “soft” skills as the hardest to master. Those habits are able to be showcased in AP Chemistry labs, rejections, even family dinner debates—and admissions officers can spot that authenticity a mile away.

A Call to Action

If you’re a high‑school student mapping out next summer, trade one online course for a hands-on commitment that scares you a little. Email that clinic, pitch that community workshop, volunteer for the research team that needs extra help. You’ll gain resume lines, sure, but you’ll also collect the stories and self‑knowledge that make those lines mean something.

Because growth rarely happens behind a desk; it happens when you step into someone else’s world—whether that’s a therapy gym, a research library, or a circle of teens waiting to talk about Joy, Sadness, and everything in between.

*Brayden is one of our students who recently committed to Boston University!